Heart of Frost and Fancy
by Eilike
Summary: In the run-up to Thor's coronation, Loki finds himself attracted to the Jotun ambassador, Lady Angrboda. While no-one, save a trio of gossip-loving harpies, is thrilled by the idea of Odin's second-born son falling in love with a frost giant, the couple engage in a battle of wits for the upper hand in an impossible affair. Try before you trust! *If* you trust at all... Pre-Thor.
1. Have Fun, my Soon-to-be-King

This story takes place shortly before the first "Thor" movie. Thor is about to be proclaimed king and brimming over with self-confidence. Loki does not look forward to that change, but so far he's "known his place" and accepted Thor's promotion as the way life is for a second-born son.

Meanwhile, guests arrive from all the realms... and Thor is thinking of ways to pass the time until the start of the festivities...

(I understand that Angrboda has appeared in Marvel, but I have not read the comic books. I chose her as the female part in this story because of her role in the original Edda. Please don't flame me, if this story isn't consistent with how she's used in the comics.)

Please R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Loki, Odin or any other characters in this story. This fanfic is done for the love of trickster deities, and I do not make money from it.

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><p><strong>+++ Chapter 1: Have Fun, my Soon-to-be-King +++<strong>

'Loki? Are you in?'

Loki raised his head and shouted, 'No!' Sometimes it helped.

But not today.

'Very funny.' Knocking at the door. 'Come on. Open.'

'I've got work to do, Thor.'

'So you said yesterday.'

'I have _a lot of work_ to do.'

'So you said this morning. Brother. I require your presence.'

'I am sure you already have the undivided attention of the Lady Sif and the warriors Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun.'

As so often, the irony was lost on the warrior.

'Er – no,' said Thor. 'Hogun is not with us this time.'

'Ah. May I inquire what argument_ he_ is excused on?'

There was a short silence. 'Promise you won't tell anybody?'

'I promise. Now, what is – '

'He's afraid of heights,' Thor shouted through the massive door. His voice probably echoed through half Asgard.

'I am afraid of heights,' Loki shouted back.

'No, you're not.' Thor's voice assumed a tone of command that indicated he was through with bickering and wanted to be on his way. On _their_ way. 'Now, open that door, little brother.'

Loki used his magic to move the door bolt. Thor entered.

His brother sat at his desk, as he usually did. There were books in front of him, as there usually were. Only, there were more.

'No way you can read all this until tonight's festivities,' Thor pointed at the stack of books and scrolls that seemed remarkably high even for Loki's standards.

'Thor,' said Loki. He sounded resigned. 'I thought they'd told you. I'm not supposed to join the celebration.'

'You're – ' Thor stared, eyes bulging. 'You're joking, right?'

Loki shook his head, 'No joke. Not this time.'

Thor blustered, 'But this is my day of honor! How could you miss it?'

'Go ahead. Talk to father. I understand it was his decision.'

'But why, brother? Why would he do such a thing and exclude you, of all people.'

'The official argument is that I've become too versed in some spells. The king's council says there are guests who might feel uncomfortable in my presence.' There was little irony in Loki's tone of voice this time.

Thor stroked his beard with one finger, thoughtful, 'And you believe that?!'

'At least it's not too unusual.' Loki's resigned tone of voice turned into defiance. 'You go and join the others, brother. I'd expect you to be the only one to regret my absence.'

'You know that's not true!'

'You really believe that, don't you?' The sarcasm was back. 'Just go and have fun, my soon-to-be-king. I'll stay here and – do my homework.' He actually made an effort to physically move Thor toward the door. Thor was too stunned by what he had learned to resist the push of his brother's hand on his back. He took a couple of hesitating steps.

Sif, Fandral and Volstagg left their cover around the door frame and blocked the way.

'Is he coming, Thor?' Fandral was carrying several large metal hooks.

'That's quite a lot of books to read,' boomed Volstagg, whom some oaf had entrusted with the mead supply.

'I am glad you noticed, Volstagg.' Loki undertook one final effort to avoid this lunacy, 'These books are exactly the reason why I am not coming – '

'But Loki,' said Sif, showing him a length of hemp rope. 'We need you. Do you want one of us to fall to their death?'

'Of course, he doesn't.' Thor was back to his cocksure self. He slammed his hand on his brother's back.

'Let me get my coat,' Loki said, once he could breathe again.

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><p>Ten minutes later, under a starlit sky and suspended over an equally vast and wild water, the young Asgardians were busy on the rainbow bridge. Thor had been present in the throne room when Odin Allfather summoned Asgard's guardian Heimdall to discuss with him security precautions for the upcoming events. This left the gang with about half an hour, and they meant to make the most of it.<p>

Sif rolled out the length of rope, while Volstagg set up a circle of goblets and filled them with mead. Thor was using the Mjolnir to drive the hooks into the Bifrost's iridescent surface. It was probably sacrilege to use the hammer for such mundane work. But this was a matter of "safety first", and there was no tool more suited for entrusting their lives to than the God of Thunder's mighty hammer.

Loki eyed the preparations warily, 'Spur my memory, good Fandral. There must have been a time when I already expressed my opinion on this kind of past-time.'

Fandral accepted his goblet from Volstagg's hand, 'Time and again you did, my prince. You usually start by calling me "good Fandral".'

'Loki?' Sif came over, trailing rope behind her. 'We're all set. Will you weave the spell?'

'And weave it well!' Thor boomed with grandeur. He put his arm around the valkyre's shoulders and hugged her against himself. 'For our lovely Sif will be the first to challenge the great falls.'

Loki rolled his eyes at his brother's boisterous demeanor. But he went down on his haunches and touched the rope on Sif's ankle. He touched the knots, too.

Fandral looked disappointed, 'Sif? But I wanted to go first.'

Volstagg grumbled, 'Where's your manners, Fandral? She's a lady.'

'Yes, but she was first to start, last time.'

'There. That should easily hold a valkyre _and_ her horse,' announced Loki, getting up.

'I'll tell the void "hello" for you, Fandral.' Sif drank from her goblet, then thrust it at Thor and set off. Uttering a shrill war cry, she raced toward the Bifrost's rim, pushed off and leapt as high and far as she could. The warriors cheered, as her arc reached its pinnacle and started to descend. Sif turned in mid-air, bringing her arms over her head, and dived. There was a brief flash of gold, the light of Asgard reflected from her armour, as she fell past.

As always, there was a short moment of breathless suspense – would the hooks take the weight? Would the rope break her fall, was it attached safely or would the knots slip?

But, just as always, Thor's strength and Loki's magic were an unparalleled combination, and the only inconvenience Sif had to endure was the rough jerking to a halt when the rope was at its limits. She bounced up, once, twice – three times, cheering wildly: She had no idea, never been able to find out, what Loki did to the ropes to get them elastic like that. But it was not the least part of the fun.

When the momentum was finally used up, her body started to swing. She craned her head to look at the churning, gushing waters below and laughed.

'Pull her up.' On Thor's command, Fandral and Volstagg grabbed the rope and pulled the valkyre back to safe ground. She rolled herself on to the Bifrost and sat up, 'By Odin's good eye, I could do this all day.'

'Speaking of time: Who's next?' Volstagg held up the rope, bending it into the shape of a horse shoe.

'My brother.' Thor clapped his hand on Loki's shoulder.

'Oh no.' Loki shook his head. 'No, no, no, leave me out of this one.'

'Why he?' asked Fandral.

'Because he's missing most of the fun scheduled for tonight,' said Thor. 'Our father excluded him from the celebration. And the queen showered him with homework instead.'

This took the warriors be surprise.

'What?' they asked. 'Why?'

Their consternation seemed so genuine Loki almost forgot he had never really felt he _belonged_.

Thor silenced them with raised hands, 'I promise you. I will put these questions before our father. For the time's being – Loki's turn. Volstagg. Fasten the rope.'

Volstagg knelt at Loki's feet and looped the rope around his ankle. He really meant his prince to be safe. Loki realized it as he magically secured the knots. They didn't require his spells to hold a man three times his weight. Naturally, he neverthelass applied his own best effort.

And then, he stood on the edge of the Bifrost, and all hopes of Heimdall noticing in time to save him diminished. Better get this over with.

But he just couldn't get his feet to move.

He was not afraid of heights, not really. But this was madness. No sentient being in their right mind would risk falling into those deadly waters and, ultimately, the bottomless void. It was said to be a gateway into far regions of space, but no one had ever lived to tell -

'Come on, Loki. There's some of us waiting their turn,' Fandral shouted.

'Come on, Loki,' shouted Sif.

'He won't do it,' said Volstagg to Thor. Thor frowned: Even suggesting that his brother might back down rubbed him the wrong way. Loki was not chicken. He just needed... brotherly encouragement.

'Hoy! Loki!' Thor called out, and tossed Loki a metal object. Loki gasped and so did the others, assuming from habit that it was the Mjolnir. But it wasn't. Loki realized it the instant he caught the thing rather painlessly against his stomach. Still, with Thor's great strength behind the throw, he lost balance and tumbled over the edge. The boiling, black water rushed up at sickening speed. His inner ear which was finely tuned for speeds and directions tumbled topsy-turvy. A hard jerk broke his fall. Directions switched in an instant, and – _Odin's mercy, the knots? Were the knots holding? _

Hanging upside down, his body started swinging like a pendulum. He swallowed hard to keep his lunch down (_or wasn't it "up", rather?_, his inner ear whispered to him, desperate).

Thor, Fandral and Volstagg appeared on the edge of the rainbow bridge, looking down at him dangling.

Even from Loki's awkward angle, Thor looked maddeningly pleased with himself, 'Brother? Hold on to my helmet, will you?'

Loki found that he was clutching his brother's winged helmet. For one instant, he considered letting go of it, just from malice. He could always claim that he had done so involuntarily...

'Did you enjoy your jump?' asked Volstagg, genuinely interested.

Loki shut his eyes. 'Just pull me up, will you?' He tried hard not to sound begging. After all, he was a prince of Asgard. And Thor's brother. 'Now.'

'Thor,' called Sif. 'Look!'

Thor followed her gaze and saw a group of five riders trot along the bridge toward them. (The horses, of course, were Asgardian, as that was a problem with the Bifrost: You had to find mounts that were not scared to death by how the rainbow bridge transported its charge. The fairyphant had done rather well, earlier that day, while the harpies, although not strictly speaking animals, had arrived a fluttering, exited mess.) - The visitors were dressed like Asgardian nobles, clad in gala armors of silver and gold. Instead of helmets, they wore bands of metal that wound tightly around their shaved heads and came down over their temples and jaws to protect their faces. The two women appeared to be a fair-haired lady in ice-blue silk and furs, and her maid.

Thor called out to them, 'Rein in your mounts, strangers. Relate your names and business in the realm of Asgard.'

'Who wants to know?' answered one of the men.

'Volstagg?' called Loki from below. 'Are you there?'

'I am Thor, Prince of Asgard,' shouted Thor. 'And I am not used to being answered in such manner.'

'Nor are we used to being welcomed to Odin Allfather's realm,' the man said. 'But, alas, a hospitable welcome was what we expected when we followed his invitation.'

'_Help? Anyone?'_

The visitors looked about, 'Where's that voice coming from?' one asked.

'Where do _you_ come from?' asked Thor. 'There lies no realm of men in that direction!'

('Every realm lies in the line of the Bifrost,' mumbled Fandral. – 'Aye,' mumbled Volstagg, 'But I think he's making a point.')

A desperate hand came up over the Bifrost and flung a winged helmet on to the bridge. The thing clattered away, drawing everyone's attention, as the hand probed for and found purchase.

'There is no realm whats-o-ever in that direction either.' The lady pointed at Loki, who struggled to get his leg over the Bifrost's edge.

'A hand would be nice,' Loki said between gritted teeth. He meant to address his brother and his friends, of course. But to everyone's surprise, it was the lady herself who quickly dismounted and stooped by the edge. Loki looked at her white fingers closing around his wrist. 'A stronger hand would be ni – hah!'

Mustering unexpected strength, she pulled him up so he could put his knee on the Bifrost. Even though Volstagg and Fandral hurried to help, the lady and Loki got up together. Her hand still clasped his wrist, and they continued to stand very close.

Sif went to collect Thor's helmet.

'Alright?' The lady searched Loki's face attentively.

'Alright,' Loki confirmed. It took him no effort to block the small impulse of magic she sent out to back up her observation. At least, that was what he thought her probing was for. 'Thank you, Lady Angrboda.'

'Angrboda? Of Jotunheim?' Thor put on his helmet and turned at the three men. 'Frost giants!' The Mjolnir started spinning, picking up momentum.

'Thor, wait!' screamed Loki and continued to scream, because, without much ado, the Jotun lady pushed him over the edge again. Volstagg and Fandral went with him. Which was a problem, because unlike him they were not attached to ropes that his magic had secured two- and three-fold to their bodies.

Loki managed to grab Fandral's hand as the warrior fell past, and Volstagg clutched Loki's leg. As the rope reached its limit, the deceleration of so much additional weight forced a groan of pain from the slender sorcerer. And another gasp, as they started to bounce.

'L- Loki?' Fandral had to shout to be heard over the noise of the water. 'Can you manage?'

'Do I – have a – choice?' Loki focused on a spell that would help him bear two men's weight. 'Volstagg, you big ox! You intend to break my knee?'

'It's the bridge,' Volstagg protested as he reinforced his two-armed choke hold on Loki's leg. 'The Bifrost is shaking.'

'Brother? My friends?' Thor appeared on the edge. 'Can you hold out for a little while longer? Heimdall has stepped out of the observatory, and father is arriving.'

Volstagg and Fandral fell silent. Loki found the confusing signals from his inner ear to be true: They were turning softly, left to right and back again.

On the bridge above, Odin Allfather declared in a loud, stern voice that the Lady Angrboda and her company were here on his invitation, just as they had claimed. Even King Laufey of Jotunheim wished to send ambassadors, when Thor, Prince of Asgard, was to succeed Odin Allfather to the throne. _So, welcome to Asgard, Lady Angrboda..._

A nice welcome, indeed.

Loki wished Sleipnir would keep his eight hooves still so the sickening vibrations would stop.

He wished the buckle of Volstagg's belt would not press into his face the way it did. He wished his hands would not turn slippery with sweat, and that he could muster enough concentration to turn Fandral into something much, much lighter. A guinea-pig would be nice.

_They were also said to taste good when roasted on a spit..._

'One penny for your thoughts,' shouted Fandral, peering upward, uneasy.

'No one,' screamed Loki, speaking around Volstagg's massive stomach, 'will deny that I am the least suited of the Warriors Three to carry about four times my own weight. Now, why is it that most of the times something goes horribly wrong with you strong guys' adventures it is I that ends up burdened with saving your necks?'

'You don't want to discuss that now, do you?' yelled Fandral.

'Oh yes,' snapped Loki. 'Now. When I can drop you, if I don't like your answers.'

'Guys, stop bickering,' called Volstagg. 'I think someone's pulling us – aaah!'

By now, with all his blood sunk into his head, Loki felt too dizzy to give a scream when the sudden upward haul set in. But the other two filled in nicely.

Heimdall dropped the rope on the shifting, moving tangle of bodies, limbs and nerves on edge.

'Here they are, my king,' he said.

'Aye, but what made them go in the first place?' asked Odin. He looked at Thor, but it was the Jotun lady who replied.

'The Prince Thor thought us intruders,' Lady Angrboda said, shrugging. 'I hoped to buy us time, if he were required to go and rescue his friends.' She shrugged again. 'He's supposed to feel responsible for them. I'm not.'

'One of these "friends" is my other son, Prince Loki,' said Odin.

'Indeed.' Angrboda looked over to where Loki was sitting on the rainbow bridge and sullenly trying to get the rope off his ankle. He countered her inquisitive look with a glance of cool, almost professional interest. Still, Odin Allfather felt things of the past raise their head and open their ugly mouth to breathe fire and venom.

'Thor! Loki!' The king called his sons to his side.

'Excuse me, gentlefolk. But the rainbow bridge is for travellers between realms_, _not an area for _recreation._' Heimdall started to steer everyone in the direction of the city of Asgard. Sif and Fandral grabbed a few hooks, Volstagg saved as many goblets as he could, then trudged behind. The Jotuns re-mounted and, accompanied by the king's guards, continued on their way to the palace.

Thor and Loki stepped up to Sleipnir.

'I am sorry, father,' said Thor, sounding defiant. 'But I wasn't aware we were expecting frost giants.'

'I would expect you to read the list of invitations to your own celebration,' Loki said sardonically. But he was looking after the visitors, and his heart did not seem to be in his words, 'I mean, I am not even admitted, and even I knew that Lady Angrboda of Jotunheim – '

'I,' interrupted their father, 'need to talk to the queen.'

He spurred Sleipnir so the mount reared over the two princes's heads. Sleipnir would not hurt any of them. But they still did their best to get out of the way.

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><p>Queen Frigga was in her dressing room, getting ready for the reception scheduled for the evening. Odin Allfather entered without knocking. It was his privilege, but one he seldom made use of. Frigga stood up from her chair and gestured at the maids to leave.<p>

Odin stomped past and stood by the window, looking out.

'My king?' Frigga approached him, but he did not wait for her to put her hand on his shoulder.

He turned on his heel and started to cross the room again. 'Disaster, my queen! Disaster!'

'I hear the Jotun delegation has been received.'

'Received you say? They nearly got slaughtered by your son.'

'Which one?' Raising two demi-god sons from the crib had given the queen a certain "first-sort-it-out, then-scream-if-it's-worth-it" attitude.

'Thor, of course. Who else would strike before asking?'

'But he didn't. So, what's the disaster?' Frigga hardly ever thought a situation worth screaming. It seemed that whenever you thought things couldn't possibly get worse, your two demi-god sons were already busy, working on some new endeavour that would prove you wrong.

'The Lady Angrboda threw your other son into an abyss to give Thor something to do instead of slaughtering her company.'

This finally caused a wrinkle to appear on the queen's forehead, 'Is Loki alright?'

'Aye, he is. He had a rope fastened to his leg.'

'A rope? Why would he do that, except - ' Frigga turned her head as if she'd heard a noise in the corridor. '_Thor_!' she said threateningly.

'Mother!' Odin said. 'I understand the Jotun touched Loki's hand.'

Frigga spun back to him, 'What, his unprotected skin?'

'Aye. Unprotected.' Odin Allfather sat on a chair like an old mortal man.

'Is he al– ?'

'Alright, of course,' shouted Odin. 'Uninjured. Not a blister of frost bite! Ah, but how she _looked_ at him!'

'The frost giants most widespread talent is that of shape shifting,' Frigga said reasonably. 'You would think they had developed some means of recognizing each other.'

'The action of one second has betrayed what we have so carefully kept a secret for centuries,' said Odin, 'What are we going to do, my wife?

'Well, first of all, we can allow Loki to join the celebration.'

'Join? But – '

'The idea - _your idea_ - was to keep him away from the Jotuns, lest _something _might happen. Well, it seems that _something_'s already happened anyway. There's no point in denying him the honor now.'

'There's all the more reason, now,' Odin protested. 'Though we must assume the Lady Angrboda has learned our secret, Loki is still clueless. We must keep that female away from our son.'

'That "female" is an emissary of her realm, and on a peace mission. She'll heed protocol at the reception,' Frigga said. 'Loki will, at any rate. He's been so eager to prove himself reliant and responsible, lately. He's always been more reserved than his brother, but it's gotten worse. I think he wants to dissociate himself from Thor's impulsiveness.'eah...but -

'Excellent,' said Odin, choosing to hear only the part of the message that pleased him.

'You will have to talk to Loki,' Frigga said. 'You cannot put it off much longer.'

Her husband's face fell.

+++ End of Chapter 1+++


	2. Shape-Shifter's Rendezvous

Hi, everybody? Many readers, but no reviews so far? Please, make my writing day and comment. :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Loki, Odin or any other characters in this story. This fanfic is done for the love of trickster deities, and I do not make money from it.

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><p><strong>+++ Chapter 2: Shape-shifters' rendezvous+++<strong>

The reception was but a prelude to the celebration that was to come. Still, Asgard's great hall Wingolf was full of guests, food, mead, music, voices, laughter and merriment.

Thor was right in the middle of it, a dazzling hero and perfect host, who talked, joked, received compliments and drank to the health of each and every one within sight who would raise their own goblet to him in return.

One step behind, and a little to his right, _always_, was his brother. While Odin's fair-haired heir was there for the party, his second-born was there on a secret mission of his own: Loki talked to get information, his joked to evoke trust, and he only ever made compliments in order to observe how they were received. Loki never encouraged flattery for his own person, and he seldom got praise that he did not have to share with his brother like in "Sure, Thor is an exceptional fighter, but I hear you've found your field of experience in the arts of magic? Probably a good thing, the two of you not being competitors in their craft, eh?".

It worked for him. It was well.

Each to their own tasks and responsibility.

Take the dwarves, for instance: Seated at a long table, the bearded little men drank and sang and told tales of great adventures, battles and fortunes of gold hidden beneath the mountains of their realm. Every now and then, one of them would start a fight over the "real" size of an army his uncle's uncle had conquered or the number of heads the slaughtered dragon had had. But if the troublemaker moved to attack, his chair would mysteriously step aside and throw him off. Or his ale would sizzle up in the mug and splash his face. The thus chastised dwarf would then stomp his feet and cry to the heavens for a chance to whet his blade on the throat of the blasted trickster who surely was to blame for this misfortune.

But since the trickster in question did not step forward to face his punishment, the laughter died down, and soon the merry singing and tale-telling would start anew.

The little folk of the mountains had drawn quite a crowd of listeners, warriors mainly, but also a couple of valkyres and even two of the norns. The Goddesses of Fate usually kept to themselves, but tonight they sat with the delegation from Wanaheim, a group of philosophers that occupied a round table in the far corner. In passing them by, Loki had found them disputing the inevitability and ineffability of life. The topic was an interesting one, and he would have liked to join their circle on the spot. But there was trouble brewing in another corner: The Fairy Folk entered the scene.

The ambassadors of this legendary magical people seemed to exist in their own reality which they carried about their own persons like another layer of garments. Everything about them seemed white and illuminated with magical light from within, their hair, their wide tunics, even the skin of their faces. Their feet, although clad in boots of white leather, always seemed to float a finger's breadth above the floor.

It was an illusion, of course. There was, in truth, nothing ethereal about a Fairy, especially not when it came to temper.

Seeing the Jotun delegation seated in a less frequented corner nearly sent the Fairies into a collective fit of dropping the pretense. If someone felt greater and more profound hostility toward the frost giants than the people of Asgard, it sure was the fair folk of Fairy.

Loki alerted his brother with a soft clucking of his tongue and a prodding elbow to Thor's arm. Thor looked up, but the gesture had caught the attention of the harpy he'd been talking to.

'Look, look,' it said with its raspy, excited voice like a cackling hen. 'That reeks of trouble.'

Its sisters immediately perked up their idiomatic ears.

Loki gave the three creatures a disdainful look. "Bird-like heralds of the truth", a skald had once euphorically described them. In fact, they resembled nothing so much like oversized, well-fed turkeys. Their bodies were bulky and covered with dark feathers. They avoided standing up for extended periods of time, finding it uncomfortable to balance their weight on those thin scaly legs that ended in bird-like feet. On their skinny necks there sat small heads, and their faces were those of very old women: sagging cheeks, parch-like skin and hollow, wrinkled mouths.

They usually used those mouths to spread gossip and comment on the things they watched with their pearly, mouse-like eyes.

'Fairys are arrogant,' the first harpy stated.

'Jotuns don't know how to behave themselves,' supplied the second and ruffled the feathers on its clumsy body.

'It won't do, inviting them to the same party,' said the third, stuffing another ripe grape in its mouth and chewing with relish. 'Oh, we are doomed, sisters. I knew before we came here: There will be trouble.'

'She may have a point about trouble brewing, brother,' murmured Thor.

Loki watched the Fairy Folk glide over to the Jotuns' table. The delegation from the winter realm had taken on Asgardian form and attire, down to the blond tresses and stylish garments of the Lady Angrboda and her maid. Loki knew by now that their mode of appearance had been a request – rather a condition – on Asgard's part. Diplomaticy aside, Odin's advisors had convinced the king that too many people would feel provoked by Jotuns joining the celebration in their true blue-skinned forms.

Still, Loki found himself wondering how the lady would look like in her own realm...

'Woolgathering, brother?' rumbled Thor in a low voice. He held the Mjolnir ready. Loki made a little gesture with his hand: _Leave it to me._

The leader of the fairies started to speak.

A sound like bird's song came from his mouth.

The sound didn't carry to the two princes. But Thor knew his brother well enough to have a good idea of what was going on, when he saw the fairy shut his mouth, confused. The Jotuns stared, no less surprised. So did the fairy's company.

Beside Thor, Loki kept his eyes levelly on the shining figure. Again, he moved his fingers.

The fairy tried to speak.

This time, his voice sounded like a cat meowing. Thor, listening really hard, caught the sound and laughed out loud. Pleased with his brother's reaction and therefore with himself, Loki allowed the finest of smiles to show on his own lips.

Across the room, the Lady Angrboda leaned forward and folded her hands on the table in front of her. When the fairy made another attempt to address her, he gave a series of ee-yores like a panicked donkey. This time, he was very loud.

All over Wingolf, conversations stopped. Heads turned, people stared, then they started to laugh.

Some of them – Sif, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg – instantly searched for and looked at Loki.

'Boys should not be taught wizardry,' said one harpy to its sisters.

A unit of Asgardian guards, dressed as servants but acting with their usual efficiency, arrived at the Jotuns' table. The leader of fairy continued to scream his protest, even as he and his comrades were first politely asked to proceed, then more or less escorted to another area of the vast hall.

'Giving him the voice of a she-ass in season.' Thor scratched his head, 'That may have been overdoing things a little, brother.'

'But – that wasn't I,' Loki protested. He was still reeling from the vicious backlash of magic that hit him as the Jotun put her own spell on top of his.

'Are you all right, brother?' Thor frowned. 'Maybe you should sit for a moment.'

'I'll be fine,' snapped Loki, shaking off his brother's hand. The Jotun lady had stood up and started to stroll away from the table, as if she needed some time to herself in order to cool down. It was uncommon that she should not be accompanied by her maid. But within the great hall of Asgard, meeting place for guests from so many realms, it was not reason for stirring a commotion, either.

'Trouble,' said the third harpy, happily chewing on a whole mouthful of juicy grapes. 'With or without magic. Boys are nothing but trouble from the moment they hatch.'

'Mind your speech, ladies,' grumbled Thor, gladly accepting the opportunity to defend his little brother when Loki himself refused to be taken care of.

'From the moment they are born,' another harpy corrected.

'Of course, sister,' insisted the feathery hag with malice. 'But my point is: Just imagine the trouble they cause _when they fall in love_.'

'Love?' said Thor, listening up. 'Who's falling in love?'

But his faithful shadow did not respond. Loki had slipped away from his brother's side and was lost in the crowd.

* * *

><p>They drifted together, irresistably, purposefully - and still surprised suddenly to find themselves face-to-face. As the crowd parted to reveal the Lady Angrboda standing right in front of him, Loki felt a tingling shock like electricity run through his body. He turned the impulse into a polite bow.<p>

'Greetings, lady,' he said. _Thank goodness._ For one moment, he'd been afraid his legendary silver tongue would fail him.

'_Light's eye_,' she mumbled as her eyes followed the impressively curved horns on his helmet. It was, Loki remembered almost mechanically, the Jotun expression for "sun".

In order to avoid an embarrassing pause, he said, 'We already met at your arrival. Yet, it seems we have not been properly introduced.' _Yes, that was it._ Speaking and hearing himself do it, made him feel confident again. Loki waved his cape artfully and straightened up from his bow. 'I am Loki. Loki Odinson. Prince of Asgard.'

'I gathered as much,' Angrboda said. She, too, was regaining her bearing. 'I am Angrboda of Jotunheim,' she paused meaningfully, then continued in a half-whisper, 'and I have a special talent for illusionary magic.'

'Your imitation of an Asgardian noble woman is quite perfect,' he assured her as quickly as truthfully .

She lowered her voice even more, 'Actually, I was talking about you.'

He was slightly puzzled, 'The gala armor, you mean? No, actually that's real.'

'Must be heavy, then. Especially the helmet.' She moved as if to touch one of the horns, and bringing her mouth close to his ear, whispered, 'What did you do to him?'

'To whom?'

'The real – ' The Jotun stopped and regarded him with that same inquisitive look that she'd given him on the Bifrost.

'Excuse me', she said coolly and much in the way of someone who has cordially greeted a stranger and realizes their mistake. 'I thought I heard you saying you're Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard. That's what you said, didn't you?'

A problem with the Asgardian language, no more. Of course. He should've anticipated that.

'Well, the King of Asgard is my father, I wear the princely armor, I look at the prince's face in the mirror, and - ' Loki turned and made a great gesture that encompassed the crowd, 'I don't see anyone else to fit the bill.' He turned back to her to give her his best winning smile.

The Jotun stood before him in an exact copy of his gala armor of green and gold. A floor-length green cape that was identical to his own flowed from her shoulders. On her head sat a helmet with long, curved horns.

Loki's smile froze.

She held up her right arm and examined the sleeve, as if she didn't notice his reaction. 'Anyone can do that armor,' she stated by way of observation. 'It's pretty simple, actually.'

'What?' breathed Loki.

'Face in the mirror?' she went on, raising her voice again. 'I don't give a damn about appearances. Pale skin, green eyes? Do you think I usually look like that?'

'You look like a copy of myself.' His voice sounded weak in his own ears.

'Only female,' she said.

'Only female,' he agreed, too numbed to think of much else to say.

She probed the horns with her hand, 'I'm quite good at shape-shifting. Would you like me to try the male version?'

'NO! I – I mean, I'd rather you changed back altogether.' Loki's gaze darted to the left and right to check if anyone had noticed the little scene. He looked at what seemed like a sea of curious, amused faces. After what happened to the dwarves and the fairy, everyone was waiting for more cheerful entertainment to happen. A chill passed down Loki spine, and suddenly he felt very exposed. _What was he doing here, anyway?_ His place, he remembered almost ruefully, was in his brother's larger-than-life shadow. Where no one paid attention to Odin Allfather's second-born, while he, Loki, could watch, assess, learn all the secret things that real power was founded on...

Angrboda laughed softly. She was obviously enjoying herself immensely. Part of him could sympathize. It was the kind of mischief he might have pulled off, after all.

Only this time Loki found himself at the wrong end of the joke.

Urgently, he said, 'People are staring at us. You must change back instantly.'

'To what?' The Jotun was relentless. 'The illusion of an Asgardian lady?'

The chill in Loki's bones turned into downright freezing cold when he saw Odin stare over at them. And now, the king even leaned forward on his scepter, his left elbow on his knee, the better to observe – and (Loki realized) to let his son _know_ that he was observing him.

'_Please_,' Loki pleaded softly. 'My father is watching.'

'Of course he is,' Angrboda said. 'I'm of the enemy. He can't approve of us talking.' But she, too, seemed to think that this practical joke had gone far enough. As Loki looked on, she transformed back into the image of a noble woman clad in linen, silk and lots of fashionable cleavage. With each piece of armor that she got rid of, Loki felt himself regain familiar territory.

'The king has officially welcomed you to Asgard,' he pointed out as soon as the more pressing danger seemed over. 'He thinks your visit might create new trust, even found a treaty of peace between our kingdoms. How could this be achieved, if not through words?'

'_How?_ Are you asking in earnest?' She shot him a mocking look from her moss green eyes, 'Sweet innocence. Well, I'm sure the king is a little more imaginative and has an idea or two.'

'What ideas?'

'Well, maybe he's afraid we'd defy protocol and decide to sink the icicle before he's got his own pieces in place,' she said defiantly, and this time her eyes actually seemed to reflect some of their natural red color.

Loki choked, 'Sink the - what?'

Now, it was Angrboda's turn to believe in a language barrier. She stopped in her occupation of checking her hair-do.

'Water the glacier?' she prompted. 'Hop it like snow bunnies?'

'_Snow bunnies?!_' Loki was as far from a smug smile as it was possible for him to be.

'Horny little creatures,' Angrboda mumbled. She paused, then shook her head lightly and busied herself with her dress.

Loki stared at her smoothing the ruffles on her cleavage. With the part of his mind that was not absorbed with the insights her dress granted, he thought that this conversation was totally off the leash.

'Brother,' said Thor. 'Will you do me the honor and introduce me to this... lovely lady?'

Loki started, as if his brother had nudged him awake. Thor instantly felt a little worried. Loki usually was not easily sneaked up on. The Jotun in their company smiled knowingly.

'Lady Angrboda!' Sif pushed through the throng toward them.

'Ah. My brother - Lady Sif.' Loki's voice was dangerously close to betraying his relief. 'Please meet the Lady Angrboda. We had just engaged in a discussion about improving political relations between Asgard and - '

'Aye, that's exactly what it looked like,' said Thor.

'Lady – my prince Thor – prince Loki.' Sif had not come for idle chatter. She greeted the Jotun formally with her fist to her shoulder, then paid Loki and Thor her respect with the same gesture. They were close friends at all other times, but this was an official occasion and demanded for protocol to be heeded. 'I apologize for intruding on your conversation. The Queen has asked for the Lady Angrboda to join her at the royal table.'

She braced herself, expecting Loki to protest, if only to show off in front of the girl that he so obviously had an eye on. But to Sif's surprise the enigmatic young man was compliant almost to the point of telling the Jotun princess to bugger off: 'If the Queen of Asgard asks for your presence it would be extremely unbecoming to make her wait, lady,' he said.

The Lady Angrboda offered Loki the back of her hand, 'It was an inspiring conversation, Prince Loki. I hope we'll find opportunity to resume.'

Loki placed his protocol kiss a good three inches above her hand. 'This is Asgard. I am afraid there are no icicles to water in this realm.'

Angrboda's smile might have counted for an imprudent grin. She offered her hand to Thor, who merely bowed curtly to her.

'If you will follow me, Lady Angrboda.' Sif started to steer the Jotun away. She looked over her shoulder to cast Loki a questioning look and mouthed, "_Icicles?_".

Loki watched them disappear among the crowd.

'What got into you, brother,' said Thor beside him. 'What was the meaning of this... strange deportment? It is very unlike you to draw the attention of the entire court to yourself.'

'The 'strange deportment', as you call it, was unsolicited and a mere side-effect,' murmured Loki. 'The lady simply put it in her head to demonstrate her proficiency in the art of shape-shifting.'

'The lady is Jotun, brother. Be mindful of your steps. You know they cannot be trusted.'

'You are right, of course.' In spite of his assent, Loki continued to stare at where the two women had disappeared in the crowd.

'So the lady thinks you two should resume your conversation.' Thor said, when his brother did not go on. 'What will you do about it?'

'Do?' Loki took a deep breath. 'Yes. I guess I need to do something about it.'

_Return to his room. Consult his books and find out about Jotun rituals and magical powers._

Because something was wrong here, terribly wrong!

Because picturing a frost giant so intensely in her true, blue-skinned form _and naked_ could probably get a son of Odin convicted for high treason, and feeling a curiosity to touch her cold skin with a desire so sudden and passionate it almost caused him physical pain was absolutely unacceptable.

'Loki?' his brother's voice asked.

_Loki was not driven by whims and lusts, never, ever. It happened to Thor. It could not possibly happen to him._

He would not allow it to happen!

Thor was surprised when he brother turned his back and started to walk away. 'Loki? Where are you going?'

'Working all this magic has exhausted me, brother. I will return to me room. Please, excuse me.'

Thor nodded. He had seen Loki come unglued with fatigue from his magical exertions before. This explanation, he could accept. 'Of course, brother. You just get some rest. I assume I'll still be here when you return – '

Thor said some more, but Loki did not process the meaning of the words.

_Back to his books!_

He did not feel tired, and his claim to the contrary had been a clear lie. One of the many lies he told to his gullible brother in order to be able to go after his own goals and mind his own business.

This time, the business seemed a grave one, indeed.

Loki had to know... he had to find out.

_Was he cursed?_

**+++End of Chapter 2+++**


	3. What do I do?

Hi there. Thanks for being back, and thank you for reviewing erin. sietstra. I'm not yet sure how this will turn out, but I have the feeling it is going to be less "romantic" - at least in the usual, Asgardian way - than I initially thought. So, it's going to go down the wire. :-)

This chapter is a little shorter than my average chapter length, but the upcoming talk was necessary and I enjoyed writing it (I've always had the impression that Odin was not a big-bad-wolf in the shape of a dad. The way I see it, a lot of trouble simply comes from the fact that he hardly ever gives his reasons for deciding as he does, so people will start filling in their own interpretations.)

Hope you enjoy. Feel free to review, I could do with one or two more :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Loki, Odin or any other characters in this story. This fanfic is done for the love of trickster deities, and I do not make money from it.

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><p><strong>+++ Chapter 3: What do I do?+++<strong>

_Knock-knock_ on the door.

Loki groaned inwardly. He thought about killing the light. Sometimes, it helped. Maybe he could dishearten his visitor, make them go away –

'Loki? It is your father.'

_Oh, please. Mercy._

'Just a moment.' Loki put the book down and stood up to open the door. He could have done so from the desk, of course. But a magically moved door - that just was not the way you received your king.

Odin entered, his staff in hand and still in his gala armor. He had two guards with him, but he signaled them to wait outside.

'Our doors are not usually bolted, my son,' he said, once they were alone.

'I ask forgiveness,' said Loki smoothly. 'I thought that with Jotuns in Asgard, and protected by the rules of hospitality – '

'_The Jotuns_.' It was almost a sigh. Odin Allfather chose a chair by the desk and sat. Casually, he reached over to the book Loki had been studying and thumbed through the pages. His one good eye distractedly browsed the illustrations of ritual items and circles of summoning and paused on the drawing of a floppy-eared white bunny. Loki watched, feeling a growing premonition of trouble. His father closed the book and looked up, still casual, 'I was not aware that you were nervous of the Jotun delegation coming to Asgard to honor your brother?'

' "Nervous" may be an incorrect word, father.'

'_But you should be!_' Odin shouted and slammed his hand down on the book, making dust billow up. Loki cringed in sympathy with the old pages.

Odin went on, 'The Jotuns are not our allies, Loki. Not yet. They are our guests; we offer them a share of our mead and a place by the fire. We do not deny them the right to honor the future king of Asgard. We do all of this, but our eyes are open. Our generosity is limited, and so is our trust. You showed wisdom, my son, when you bolted your room. Do not lower your guard while the enemy is roaming freely in our realm.'

'Thank you, father. I won't.'

Another blow on the book, '_And yet!_'

_Oh, father. That was sooo see-through._

What Loki had not seen coming was the conspirative smile on the king's face, as Odin leaned forward and lowered his voice, 'I understand you met the Lady Angrboda, my son.'

'I believe you saw me talking to her, so there is no way I could deny.' Sometimes, a nonchalant answer made the king crack an approving smile and served to ease the tension.

But not today.

'And when you talked to her – what was your impression of the princess?' Odin asked with keen interest.

Loki chose his words with care, 'She is very... observant. She has a shrewd sense of humor. And she is a skilled user of magic.'

Odin's eyebrows knitted, 'More skilled than our masters of the craft, what do you think?'

'That's not easy to say. But she created a copy of my armor just from looking at the original. That _does_ take a certain experience.'

Odin stroked his beard, leaving little mystery where Thor had picked up his favorite gesture of abstraction. _If I grew facial hair, would I succumb to that same annoying habit?_ Loki wondered in the short silence.

Then, Odin said, 'You described her as being very observant. Do you think she set her mind to observing you?'

'Father, with all due respect, is this an interrogation?'

Odin straightened up, 'No, Yggdrasil's crown, no. I was – just interested.'

Now, it was Loki who insisted, 'In what?'

'There's a Jotun noble, talking to my younger son. The entire court can watch them laugh and improvise a little costume play. My older son is going to be proclaimed king next Thorsday, but he is unmarried. What do you think? Does that give a father any right to have a talk with his son?'

Loki's thoughts had arrived at this particular twist before, 'Are you suggesting to make me your successor if I marry Lady Angrboda?'

Odin shrugged noncommittally, 'Well, she _is_ the daughter of King Laufey's brother. If you two were united in matrimony, a permanent alliance with Jotunheim might be forged.'

'_But would you prefer me over Thor, if I -_ '

'If you became the Lady Angrboda's husband, the throne of Jotunheim could be yours,' Odin said.

'How?' Loki fired back, 'King Laufey has two sons, and a third one, the oldest, gone missing several hundred years ago, or so intelligence relates.'

'Let's not chase phantoms,' Odin said with emphasis. 'It's two sons accounted for.'

'So, it's two, then. Fine. What's the plan? Send out assassins to cut their throats? Would you want me to start my reign with blood on my hands? How would Angrboda look at me, if she found out?'

'Ha! So you _do_ care about the ambassador!'

'I never said I didn't. I just – '

'First, let me make a point that I was not talking about murdering Laufey's sons,' Odin said, more composed. 'There might yet be other ways to secure his throne for you. But what - and pray, consider your answer carefullly - what makes you think Angrboda would find out about anything that you strived to keep secret from her?'

The question was absolutely unexpected and took Loki by surprise. In a discussion, he strove and usually managed to stay well ahead of his partner's argument. Knowing what outcome the other was aiming at, he could fashion his own answers to manipulate the direction their talk was headed.

But he found himself unable to do that in this strangest of coversations that Odin was forcing on him.

'She - ,' Loki began, then stopped again. Trying to think carefully, to grasp the implications of any word he might or might not say.

'Has a way of reading your thoughts?' Odin suggested, as if he were helping a child to express himself. 'Knows how to touch your soul and play a tune on strings you never even knew you had in your heart?'

'No, not that, but – '

'She touched your hand on the Bifrost, didn't she?' Odin leaned forward. There was an intensity to his question that seemed to condense the very air in the room. 'What did she claim to have felt when she did? What did _you_ feel?'

'_Father_,' Loki cried out.

'You must not touch her again, Loki. You hear me? It is said that Jotun women have a way of making men bend to their desires. But you must stand your ground, my son. It is vital that you don't bed her – '

'Father!'

This talk was becoming more and more an issue of volume and persistence.

'What?' boomed Odin, 'She would not be your first mate, or so I gather. You and your brother have been frolicking about this realm's supply of maidens like the born rulers that you are! And you're certainly old enough to hear these words from your sire's mouth. – _Do not bed her_, I say, before you've been introduced as her - ' He stopped himself as though he realized he was saying too much.

'_What is the reason for this talk?_' Loki cried. 'Father, why have you come? What are you afraid that I might betray?' Odin had fallen silent, but the desperate youth still raised his voice, 'Am I not your son? Don't you think me worth your trust? Do you really think I would give away Asgard's secrets for the cold lips and icy body of a blue-skinned monster? I know that's what she is, she and her people – ' Loki couldn't go on. He was close to tears. He felt he was being treated unfairly, and he felt lost and so very confused by everything that had happened since he followed Thor on that stupid trip to the Bifrost.

_Why would that vision not go away?_

Angrboda walking beside Sif - naked blue-skinned shoulders, waist, hips and legs moving in gracious feline rhythm. (Sif, in comparison, looked unspectacularly everyday. And, of course, there was that "_Mine! _Yours truly. Thor" stamp on her fully-dressed curves).

Loki held his eyes cast down before Odin, irrationally afraid that the old magician might read the scandalous image in his eyes.

He heard his father's voice, very calm. Sad, almost. 'No, not Asgard's secrets. It is just... Stand your ground, Loki. Always remember who you are.'

'Nothing will make me forget, father,' Loki promised. His eyes were brimming with tears. Still, he managed to smile confidently. 'And whatever powerful, confusing magic Jotun women wield, I stand a good chance of fighting them back. After all, I'm not one of these blue-skinned, dull-witted monsters._ I am Aesir._ I am your son.' What else was there to say? He blinked away the tears, looking at his hands in his lap. He waited for reassurance and praise.

He got none of those.

His father put a weak hand to his own brow.

'Whyever did I come here?' moaned Odin. 'Frigga, my wife. Your good advice has made things worse.'

'Mother? Mother is behind this?'

'She suggested that we have a - how did she call it? A "father-son-talk".' Odin gave a frail smile. 'Did we have one? I don't think so. Not a very good one, anyway, I am afraid. I'm feeling old now. Tired. You're crying. Mother will be beside herself. What do I tell her, Loki?'

Loki's answer was a mere formality, dictated by protocol, 'Tell her that I appreciate her motherly concern, and I will honor the wishes of my father.'

'Good.' Odin got up. 'Then everything is said on this matter.'

'A word in private, father? Son to sire, not prince to king?'

Odin hesitated, then gave a nod. He put down his sceptre and leaned it on the desk.

Somehow, Loki found the strength to smile. 'Even if this may have been the most awkward father-son-talk in the history of our family: Thank you for coming.'

Odin acknowledged with another nod and took his scepter. He put his hand to Loki's shoulder and gave it a short, affectionate squeeze. 'Sleep well, Loki, my son.'

'And a good night to you, my king.'

Loki accompanied his father to the door, opened it, nodded at the two guards and the one man that was there for his own safety. He watched the king walk down the corridor, then closed the door...

Safely back inside, Loki leaned heavily against the door like someone too weak to stand on his own. He felt the smooth surface behind his hands and tipped his head back until it rested on the wood. Unblinking, he stared at the ceiling for long seconds. Why was it that sometimes, he just felt like he was a stranger marooned in a world of madness?

'I need a drink,' he said to a massive wooden beam in the ceiling.

But he already knew that that wasn't quite true. He needed to go where the drinks were. Because it was there he would find the people he needed to talk to right now.

* * *

><p>Thor's face, as he welcomed his brother back to Wingolf, was untypically somber. But the Warriors Three greeted Loki in high spirits.<p>

'Nice going,' said Volstagg.

'Lady's got a crush on you, heh?' smirked Fandral.

'It did look like you were nicely matched,' said Hogun thoughtfully.

Loki slid on the chair next to Thor that Fandral quickly abandoned for him. He reached for Fandral's goblet of wine and examined the contents. Finding it not full enough, he seized Thor's newly re-filled mug of ale instead and downed it in one, long draught.

The Warriors Three exchanged startled glances. Even Thor seemed surprised. By the time Loki finished his drink, everyone's surprise had turned into slight worry. Loki set down the empty mug, blinked a couple of times and gasped with his mouth open.

Thor placed his hand on the other prince's shoulder. 'What's the problem, brother?'

'I'm sorry for your ale.' Loki was still catching his breath.

'No harm done,' said Thor bravely, although he probably felt different. Exchanging gloomy looks, Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun silently, stealthily, removed their own mugs from the table to cradle them safely against their chests.

But Thor signalled to a maid and was supplied his own new mug, while Loki got his refilled.

'Brother,' said Thor, licking foam from his lips. 'I am glad you came back. We need to talk. About the Jotun ambassador.'

'Your point?' Loki stared into his drink.

'Know that as soon as I am proclaimed king, I shall take care of Jotunheim. Whether our relations be friendly or an example for the power of Asgard will be decided then. It is not at disposal here and now, and it's certainly not something that can be bargained between you and and the ambassador.'

'Of course not,' mumbled Loki. 'What would become of the dealers, if the bargain had its own say in the trade?'

'What do you mean, brother? What did the Lady Angrboda and you talk about?'

'She complimented me on my armor,' said Loki, clutching the mug's handle. 'She pointed out that her present form is not what she would look like when given the choice. And she – she expressed an interest in exchanging information on the wildlife of Jotunheim.'

'Wildlife?' echoed Thor, nonplussed.

'With a special focus on a certain species of frost resistant mammals,' Loki elaborated.

'Oh,' said Fandral with sudden inspiration. 'You mean _snow bunnies!_'

Wide grins spread on the faces of the men around the table. Irritated, Loki realized that everyone of them seemed to know that particular species - and knew it as a catalyst of filthy associations.

'That's why you look like you've seen a ghost?' Thor, his initial dark mood completely evaporated, winked his eye at his comrades. 'Why don't you invite her to explore some of the "wild life" of Asgard in return? Take her to see the love nests of the pidgeons in the highest tower, for instance. Or the noble horses with their stacks of fragrant, soft hay in the stables...'

Loki's eyes were turning a little glassy, 'Thor, it's father. And mother. I – I think they are planning to marry me off to Jotunheim.'

'Marry you off?' The men exchanged another round of looks, but at this news their frivolity subsided quickly. 'To a Jotun?'

'What do I do?' Loki asked, despondent.

Like one man, Volstagg, Fandral and Hogun leaned over the table and held out their mugs to him.

'Get drunk.' Fandral advised sympathetically.

+++End of Chapter 3+++


	4. Go water your own landscape

Hi, everybody. This story is sort of a mystery to me. I have fun writing it. People seem to have fun reading. And still - one review? This is "all-time low", if ever I saw one :-) Never thought it could happen, not to me or anyone on this site. Well, I'm still writing, having fun - and hope you enjoy. :-) Since the last chapter was a little shorter than average, this one is longer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Loki, Odin or any other characters in this story. I do not make money from it.

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><p><strong>+++Chapter 4: Go water your own landscape! +++<strong>

'Brother? Do you want another ale?'

'No, he doesn't Thor.'

'Let him speak for himself, Fandral.' Thor shook Loki by the shoulder.

Loki mumbled under his breath.

'What did he say?' Thor looked at the other men.

'That he's had enough,' Fandral said. 'You can usually tell when a guy's head hits the table like that.'

Thor grabbed hold of one of the curved horns on his brother's gala. Loki groaned softly as the helmet was pulled up and his head along with it. Thor tried to make contact with his brother's half-closed eyes. 'Brother? I cannot have everyone witness you sliding under the table. Not at this hour.'

'Jotuns... watching?' mumbled Loki.

'No, they have retired to their quarters.'

Loki's head sunk again. He would have rested his brow on the back of his hands, but the horns were in the way. So, he continued to sit miserably, with his elbows propped on the table. He rubbed with both thumbs the bridge of his nose, trying to see straight. Suddenly, he began to chuckle.

'What's so funny, brother?' Thor smiled. HIs brother's hilarity was contagious.

Loki giggled too hard to speak. But he tried, and finally, he managed to explain, 'I really - care for them, don't I? I mean, I just asked - I asked whether they - whether she - ?' Trying to sit up to give this speech in a dignified way, he swerved. Only a quick, reflexive snatch for the edge of the seat saved him from falling off the rather steadfast chair altogether. Surprised, he looked at the chair and rattled the backrest.

Thor heaved a sigh, 'Fandral, Volstagg, get him to his room.'

'Just try to keep your head up like a true prince,' Volstagg mumbled as he pulled Loki's left arm over his own shoulder. 'Fandral and I will handle the rest.'

Together, they hoisted Loki to his feet and started to walk him toward the exit.

'The king is looking over,' smiled Fandral. 'Everyone – greet him.'

Lowering his head was not a problem for Loki. Getting it back up was. Volstagg sneaked two fingers under the rim of Loki's heavy helmet and tugged. Loki straightened up like a hand puppet. Odin probably noticed the charade, but he kept a straight face. With his left hand he signaled them permission to leave.

Volstagg and Fandral headed for the exit.

They had expected Loki to revive some, once they exposed him to the cool night air. But he stayed as he was, a near-dead weight they shared between them. They crossed the courtyard and re-entered the opposite building.

Volstagg said, 'Do you think we should, I dunno, take one of the less frequented corridors?'

'This is Asgard,' Fandral said reasonably. 'People get hauled out of the great hall dead drunk all of the time.'

'Yes, but he's Odinson.'

'Shhh,' said Fandral. 'Do you hear that?'

There were voices in the corridor ahead of them, engaged in a low and agitated debate. Volstagg and Fandral turned the corner. There were Jotuns and Fairy folk, and they were facing each other as if preparing for battle. Three frost giants and five Fairies, to be correct. It had seemed more, at first sight. But it certainly was enough for causing trouble.

'A good evening to you, gentlefolks,' Fandral said cheerfully. 'Methought I heard the merry voices of honored guests on their way to the feast.'

'We left the entertainment,' growled a Jotun. 'The company was not to our liking.'

'Isolation has become a prominent trait in King Laufey's interworldly relations,' said a Fairy, sadly shaking his head.

'Handing out unwonted advice has always been a trademark of Fairy's,' said another Jotun.

'You consider us invasive, Jotun? Is that what you are saying?'

'Stick to what is yours, and stay away from what's ours.'

'Gentlefolks,' said Fandral, imitating the Fairy's regretful tone of voice. 'Gentlefolks, please. No fighting tonight.'

Only now did the adversaries fully turn to the three Asgardians. 'By whose authority do you take command?' asked the Fairy haughtily. He recognized the horned helmet and his pale blue eyes widened. 'Oh!'

'Light's eye,' sighed Loki, who seemed to come to his senses on cue, 'Will you already silence those thugs and continue on our way, Volstagg?'

The Jotuns grinned as if the show outweighed the insult.

'If there is something we can do – ' the Fairy said quickly.

'You can. Float back, let us through,' said Fandral.

The Fairy did more than that: They vanished into thin air.

The Jotuns looked about with glowing red eyes. 'Damned magic users.'

'They have left,' said Fandral. 'Whatever your fight was about, it will be postponed to another day and location – hopefully not Asgard.'

'Will you find your way to your quarters or do we have to summon the guards?' asked Volstagg. 'Don't get me wrong; I'd love to see you home, but – ' He shrugged his shoulder under Loki's arm to show that he was needed otherwise.

The Jotuns' grins grew even more wicked. 'Don't worry,' they said. 'We'll stick to our path, so you can stay on yours.'

Volstagg and Fandral had no reason to doubt their sincerity. Still, they sent the two guards in front of Loki's door to check on their guests, before they kicked open the door and dragged their burden to his bedstead.

Loki collapsed on his bed. He hit the pillow face-down, giving a muffled groan and clutching at the pillow as if it might try to escape from under him.

Volstagg lifted Loki's legs on to the bed.

'He's still wearing his boots,' Fandral pointed out. 'He would absolutely protest against your putting his booted feet on the blanket, Volstagg.'

Holding Loki's feet by the ankles, Volstagg pulled off Loki's boots. Fandral carefully took off the horned helmet. Once he was rid of the weight and discomfort, Loki gave a sigh and turned his face to the side.

'Now this is something to remember.' Fandral brushed the dark hair away and ran a damp strand through his fingers, 'I've never seen Loki's hair get matted from wearing that helmet. _Any helmet_, that is.'

Volstagg was busy spreading a comforter over the sleeping form and tucked in the seams, 'You expected him to keep up his vanity spells? When he's like that?'

'Give me ten minutes,' Loki mumbled.

Fandral cast Volstagg a surprised glance which the tall warrior returned. Loki lay with his eyes closed. He could've been talking in his sleep.

'Good to hear your voice,' Fandral said, leaning closer. 'How do you feel?'

'Go to the Jotuns's quarters,' Loki said in that same subdued voice. He was hardly moving his lips. 'Wait there for me.'

'We already sent the guards there,' Fandral said. 'We'll get another man to stand outside your door. No one's going to come in and disturb you. You can sleep in - '

'No talking,' hissed Loki. 'Get moving.'

'Fandral,' said Volstagg, starting to leave and pulling his comrade along. 'I think he means it.'

* * *

><p>The Jotun delegation had been assigned rooms in the Tower of Sunset, quite some distance from the royal wing of Asgard's palace. The corridors were abandoned save for the occasional guard; the night was young and people were out, celebrating. Volstagg and Fandral felt a little silly, standing guard in front of the frost giants' door. If quantities meant anything, Loki would most likely sleep well into the next morning, if not mid-day. They could stand here all night... but still, they dared not speak.<p>

Exactly seven minutes later, Loki joined them. He walked easy, his booted feet moving nearly soundless on the marble floor. His eyes were clear, his gaze sharp, and his dark hair immaculately slicked back.

'I could swear there was someone following me,' he said instead of a greeting. He looked behind him, then shook his head.

'You could, couldn't you?' said Fandral. 'Well, if you would deign to tell us what royal plot you have up and running here, I might hazard a guess who would be interested in tailing you.'

'My guess is that it's a harpy, of course,' Loki said offhanded. 'They have a secret sense for escapades like this.'

'Escapades?'

'In time, good Fandral.' Loki eyed the closed door. Agitated voices sounded through the solid door. One female voice stood out.

'Isn't that a bit tricky, coming here yourself?' Volstagg asked. 'Heimdall will surely - '

'Heimdall,' said Loki, 'has turned his eyes away from me. - How long have they been fighting behind that door?'

'How do you know?' asked Volstagg.

'Why, I can hear them screaming, of course.' _Actually, Angrboda was ranting about a traitor's need to appear harmless. Or was it "to behave themselves and not to act like troublemakers and number one foes of the state"?_

Looked like they really had a language issue here. But it wasn't Loki's fault. He had asked to be taught the Jotun language, when he was a boy. He thought it useful to be able to communicate with Asgard's most fierce enemy in their own tongue. Odin had not thought it a good idea at all. He had screamed at his son as only Odin could scream at you...

'No, _Heimdall_,' Volstagg persisted. 'How do you know Heimdall is not watching right now?'

Loki smiled ironically. 'He's in the habit of keeping an eye on Asgard's royal family. But as he saw me pass out on mead and watched you tuck me in so nicely, he's probably returned to stalking my brother.'

Fandral sighed, 'You did it again, didn't you?'

'Did I what?'

'Make it so that we saw you drink mead and ale. But Thor took the effects upon himself.' Fandral turned to Volstagg. 'Loki does that kind of thing. He's done it before. Thor told me about it.'

'My brother has a very big mouth,' said Loki, peeved. Then, the smile returned to his face, albeit a little sour, 'And an even greater capacity for mead.'

'But - ' said Volstagg.

'Enough of this,' Loki cut across him and nodded at Fandral, 'Will you knock and alert our honored guests to the fact that we are in front of their door, good Fandral?'

Fandral did as he was asked and rapped the hilt of his sword against the wood. The door was answered by the princess's maid. She peered out suspiciously, almost hostile, 'What do you want?'

'The Prince of Asgard wishes to talk to the ambassador,' said Fandral. 'Although the moment may not be opportune...'

'Are you the Prince of Asgard,' the maid asked, calmly.

'Me?' Fandral gestured at Loki. 'Er, no – he is.'

'Swea,' called the Lady Angrboda from the adjacent room, and then some words in the Jotun language that Loki interpreted roughly as the refusal to receive any more people wanting to talk politics tonight.

Quickly, he said, 'Tell your mistress that I came to resume our conversation. The part concerning... concerning the specifics of Jotunheim geography.'

'Yes, we got glaciers.' Swea sized him up shamelessly. 'Lots and lots of 'em.'

'So... '

'So we don't need an Asgardian's help to maintain them. Go water your own landscape. Good night.'

She closed the door in his face. Volstagg and Fandral inhaled, making anxious faces at each other. It was a critical situation. Loki had been known to fly off the handle for less. He just hated being interrupted and left looking stupid.

'That didn't go very well,' Volstagg observed, when the prince would not move a finger.

'I wouldn't have noticed,' Loki snapped. But the seething anger subsided with the airing of the words. It always did. The trick was to get Loki breathing again. Volstagg, comfortable and cheerful by nature, usually knew how.

'All right,' said Fandral, driving his fist into the other hand. 'Plan B.'

' "B" as in "birds and bees"?' asked Volstagg, when Loki would not immediately respond.

'No. Balcony.'

* * *

><p>'I cannot do this, Volstagg,' mumbled Loki, for the umpteenth time. 'I'm a prince of Asgard.'<p>

He stood with a doubtful expression and with his arms firmly crossed as if he needed to stop himself from running off.

'Yes, but Fandral is so eagerly engaged,' said Volstagg comfortably. 'Do him the favor.'

Fandral had led his comrades to the stables, where he had chatted amiable with the boy on duty. They seemed to know each other well. Loki was not sure, but he thought a bribe had passed between them. Fandral had neither looked at the coins he produced from his pocket, nor did the boy check them. Common business; they had trust in each other. The boy had then disappeared quickly, and Fandral chose a long ladder, which they carried (sneaking in the shadows, always the shadows) to the back side of the Jotuns's tower.

Fandral was testing the ladder now, to ensure it was safely positioned under the lady's window. He looked up and checked the distance with an expert eye. He moved the ladder a bit to the left. When everything was prepared to his satisfaction, he stepped aside and made an inviting gesture with his hand.

Loki did not move.

Fandral repeated the gesture with emphasis and a frown.

Reluctantly, Loki stepped on the first rung. He cast Volstagg a desperate look: The big warrior gave him an encouraging nod.

Loki climbed quickly until he stood on the rung just under the one that would actually bring him eye-to-eye with the person opening the window. Fandral said that holding the higher ground made the ladies more comfortable. 'Imagine yourself waking at a sound from outside and finding someone's face – even someone you knew - staring fully at you. Would you greet them with a smile of love?'

'I would have my dagger ready and strike them dead,' Loki had said truthfully. 'Are you sure this is safe?'

'Alright,' Fandral said. '_Alright._ - We all know that surviving next to our beloved prince demands full attention and readiness for battle, twenty-four-seven. But you're trying to meet _a lady_. From another, far away realm. Not someone who grew up with Thor like you or us.'

Still, Loki wondered if he might be stretching his luck here. He was, after all, trying to meet not any lady, but a Jotun. And they were said to grow their blades right from their hands.

He sent another glance to the friends at the bottom of the ladder. Volstagg nodded. Fandral gave him a "thumbs up".

Loki drew a deep breath and knocked against the yellow-and-green stained window. He turned to his companions, 'She's not going to open. Let's take back that ladder and hope no-one took notice...'

'Look,' said Fandral.

Alerted, Loki turned and saw a light moving inside the room: Someone approached the window. A hand reached for the bolt and unlatched it. For a moment, it was Swea's face retreating into the dark room. Angrboda appeared in the dark square. Her face was lit by a single candle in a stick. Loki was not sure whether it was just the shock of actually seeing her that made his heart jump in his chest – or whether it was the cold look she gave him.

If Jotuns could kill with a glare he'd certainly be dead.

'Are you out of your mind to come here?' she hissed.

He said the first thing his frozen mind came up with, 'Possibly.'

Someone giggled inside, betraying the the maid hovered nearby.

Angrboda was baffled, 'Possibly? Is that all? Sweet Innocence! If that all-seeing, golden-eyed creep spies us, he'll have me sent back to Jotunheim before the rime of morning has collected.'

'Why would Heimdall do that?'

'For the same reason that the Queen would make it a point that she was glad to have Jotun ambassadors in Asgard. But that it was still her husband, the king, I needed to talk with. Not her sons.'

'So she did disapprove of the two of us talking in the hall,' Loki said, surprised.

'Not just in the hall. She pretty much commanded that you and I not exchange another word, whats- and wheresoever.'

_But for what reason?_

'There has to be a misunderstanding,' Loki said. 'The queen would not easily forbid us talking.'

Angrboda started to close the window.

'Wait,' called Loki, suddenly feeling an inexplicable panic that she might actually leave for good. 'Whatever it is, I'll talk to mother. And – and Heimdall is father's servant. I'll order him to leave you alone – '

'You still don't get it, do you?' Looking down on him, a curious gleam came into Angrboda's eyes. There was anger, of course. But also the cunning of a tiger that the deer has offered they run a little race. 'You can't order Heimdall to do anything. You are not the king of this realm. You'll never be. Have you noticed that this week of splendid receptions and feasts isn't about you? Your brother is about to be crowned. Thor Odinson is the ruler, you, I - we all shall kneel before.'

Her words cut into an old hurt that Loki had carefully avoided to acknowledge, even to himself. When he and Thor were boys together, he had, with a child's persistence, been able to assume that their father would work a miracle. Somehow, two thrones would be available to serve two princes' great expectations.

Before long, however, he had come to understand what "second-born" meant: It meant standing in gala armor on the steps to the single throne of Asgard, condemned to look on as your boisterous brother was handed over the king's scepter. It meant you were the first to bend your knee and to pledge your loyalty and obedience to the new ruler.

_To someone, let's face it, who had made tossing his friends headlong into an abyss into an art and favorite past-time... _

'Say no more,' Loki demanded harshly.

'Oh, but someone must tell you, you need to be shaken awake.' Jotuns knew how to cut with words just as they did with ice. Angrboda felt frustrated by everything she found in this place, so she was ready to verbally dissect him alive. 'Sweet Innocence, you have lived your life in such a cozy bed of cotton wool and brotherly care. Has it ever occurred to you that from next Thorsday, you shall do everything to prove your unconditional devotion to your sibling? So he'll continue to feel that care for you. Because the norns have mercy on you, Loki Odinson, if he doesn't; if King Thor should find reason to cast you out - '

'_Shut up,_' Loki screamed, '_Shut the Hel up._'

'Pipe down, Loki, will you?' whisper-called Fandral from below.

'Or what?' shouted Angrboda. 'You run to your brother, squealing? To beg the proud owner of the Mjolnir to protect his poor little brother from the truth he would not hear?'

'Pass the word on to your sweetheart,' hissed Fandral. 'Quie – et!'

'You malevolent wench!' shouted Loki. 'You shall not drive a wedge between me and my brother.'

'Don't worry!' shouted Angrboda. 'That wedge, ultimately, has been prepared by others.'

'That's right, you know,' a crackling voice said beside Fandral's knee. Preoccupied with tilting his head back, looking up to lofty height, he realized only now that something was moving down there. He looked into an old woman's wrinkled face.

'Huh?' said Fandral. 'How did _you_ get here?'

'Followed the scent of stealthiness, from the hall to the royal chambers, to the tower, and out here.' The harpy grinned, 'Lots of treason and subversive plots going on in Odin's court. But those fueled by romantic folly are not the most reprehensible, let me tell you -'

Like one person, Angrboda in the window and Loki on his ladder turned sharply to the creature, yelling, 'Shut it!' – 'Hold your slanderous mouth'

A gust of wind swept through the harpy's feathers, freezing them stiff and coating them in ice.

'_Waarck!_' the creature said, sounding much like a duck while looking like an odd hedgehog with frozen feathers like quills sticking out in all directions..

Fandral grimaced, 'Oh, my lady. How appalling, such misfortune! Please, accept my apology which I - '

'_Waargh,_' the harpy repeated, too angry and too cold to articulate. '_Aaargh! Freezing!_'

'There is the warmth of fires to be found in the hall over there...if you would?' Volstagg said, pointing. Good advice was more welcome than a gallant's pretty words. The harpy shot mean looks at everyone involved, including the ladder, and waddled off as fast as its plump legs would allow.

Angrboda leaned forward, resting her hands on the windowsill.

'Oooh, nice going,' she stated dryly.

Loki turned at her again, 'So this is how you would treat the honored guests of Odin?'

She shook her head lightly, 'Sorry. Wasn't me.'

'Prevaricating again, are you, deceitful nag? At least grant me to know my trade. _That _was clearly Jotun magic at work!'

'And look what a bungled, amateurish job you did. _Sweet Innocence!_'

Loki's patience snapped, 'Mendacious shrew! I will have your vile tongue cut out and this false skin peeled off your face until the enormity of the illusion is laid bare – '

Starting from Angrboda's fingers on the windowsill, veins of blue ice raced across the stone. They grew, they twined, connected and reached out for the ladder. Within moments, the wood under Loki's hands had coated with ice. The cold bit into his hands, evoking the terrifying image of his body turning into a statue of ice that shattered on the ground below. Giving an involuntary cry of distress at this prospect, Loki jumped to escape the Jotun's curse. He landed on Volstagg, knocking the big warrior over. Together, they tumbled on Fandral, and for the second time in one day, the three of them went down in a tangle of limbs.

'Scared by a little frost? _Oh please._' Angrboda rolled her eyes. Swea giggled, and stepped beside her mistress, thus showing that she had listened to every word. Angurboda reached sideways and tousled her maid's hair. 'That's not funny. That's a tragedy.'

The Jotuns disappeared from sight and closed the window.

The Asgardians finished sorting themselves out and sat on the ground.

'What the Hel happened up there?' asked Fandral. 'Loki? We couldn't hear a thing until you two started shouting.'

Loki gave a disgruntled sound, 'It was the shouting that was thoughtless and misplaced, good Fandral. Not the words spoken in silence.'

'That's a poetic way to say it's none of my business, eh?'

Loki said nothing, which was a good as an answer.

'I don't know about you guys,' said Volstagg breaking the uncomfortable silence. 'But I could do with something to drink.'

'Me too.' Fandral nodded. 'Loki?'

'I'm going to bed, Volstagg. Seriously this time.' Loki was alternately rubbing his hands and breathing some life back into them. His skin, he could warm up. But the cold that was truly to fear went far deeper. 'I'm fed up with today's festivities.'

Fandral eyed him closely, 'Are you sure you're alright? Do you want us to get Thor?'

_Thor's the ruler you shall kneel before...the norns have mercy on you, if you don't..._

_The wedge has been prepared by others._

'Leave the future king of Asgard to his duties on this day of glory.' Loki resisted giving the window above one last farewell look, 'And me to my rest.'

+++ End of Chapter 4+++


	5. Merry Bilging in Autumn

Hi, everybody. Thanks to my reviewers for leaving me your messages. Would that many followed your example... Because there's still some embarrassment for our favorite trickster to live through. And, if possible, survive... as Thor decides to make himself helpful. :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Loki, Odin or any other characters in this story. This fanfic is done for the love of trickster deities, and I do not make money from it.

* * *

><p>+++Chapter 5: Merry Bilging in Autumn+++<p>

The brothers met again at breakfast. Thor was already up and about, happily filling his plate with thinly sliced beef. Loki felt sore and hung-over. He'd spent most of the night lying awake, and from the short intervals when he had slipped into troubled sleep, dark dreams lingered and overshadowed the brilliant light of morning.

He chose white bread and a fried egg, which he lifted carefully on to his plate.

Thor ladled scrambled egg cheerfully on his own plate, 'And how are we on this beautiful morning?'

'Hrrmm.'

'That bad, hm?'

'_Hrrr-hmm._'

Thor stopped loading his plate with food and looked like a troubled sibling, 'I'm sorry you had an argument with your lady.'

'Who told you? Fandral? Or Volstagg? Doesn't matter, they're both miserable traitors.'

'Do not talk vilely about our friends. I talked to Fandral only _after_ I was told about your escapade by a harpy. A quite _ruffled looking_ harpy, as I'd like to mention.'

'Curst magpies in the disguise of - '

'Guests. They're our guests,' Thor reminded him. But he was not angry. This morning was just too bright for gloomy thoughts. Thor surveyed the buffet, then he helped himself to a generous serving of grilled tomatoes. 'I've got news to cheer you up. Ready? Here they come: I've talked to father. He's not planning to marry you off. Not right away, that is. He wonders how you ever got the idea.'

Loki choked. 'You told him I suspected him of – '

'Well, there was an opportunity and I thought I'd clear the matter for you.' Thor led the way to their seats of honor at the royal table, 'He said he was not even thinking about Jotunheim's throne before he had installed me on Asgard's.'

'You're about to be crowned in less than a week.' Loki did not even try to hide his sarcasm. 'So that leaves my marriage to be scheduled for, let's see – the week after that? A fortnight?'

'Pass me the horseradish dip, will you?' Thor received the bowl and started to pile spicy, mashed horseradish on his scrambled egg. 'You deliberately want to misunderstand, brother,' (more horseradish), 'Father won't suggest that you marry in maybe another one-hundred years or so.' He put down the bowl and stirred eagerly.

'But – ' Loki frowned as all kinds of thoughts wanted to make themselves heard, regarded and put together in a new pattern. Something about all this just didn't make sense... it dawned on him that it never had... just as his brother's idea of a tasty breakfast was, and had always been, beyond good reason. _Oh well. It could have been worse. _Four-hundred years ago, and Thor would have used the back of his spoon to squish those tomatoes into a juicy pulp...

'Maple syrup on your fried egg?' asked Thor, the little jug in his hand.

Loki was jolted out of his thoughts, 'Oh? Yes, please. No, put more. Put it – '

'Right on top, I know.' Thor hoped the peculiar culinary creation would cheer his brother up. He found it hard to believe, but he'd actually seen it work. 'She's looking over at us.'

No doubt as to whom he was talking of or waving the jug at. To Loki, there was only one female person worth mentioning in all of this court. But he would not show how Thor's news electrified him.

He gave his happily munching brother a level look. 'So?'

'So, I'll have a word or two with her.' Thor pushed back his chair, swallowed his mouthful and stood up.

'What? No! _No, no, no,_ you don't mean to – ' Loki's chair scraped over the floor as he hurried after his brother. Thor approached the Jotuns's table with a set jaw.

The frost giants greeted him with rather cold stares.

'My brother and I bid you a good morning, lady,' said Thor, indicating a bow. Fandral had warned him that she might be a little reluctant to welcome any of them. The blond warrior couldn't relate what Loki had said or done. But it certainly had not pleased the lady. Somehow, it fitted. _His brother,_ Thor was sorry to say, _was too much books and scrolls to have the common sense for the art of courting._

That was what he needed - and luckily had - Thor for.

Angrboda whispered to her maid, then looked at Thor as if he were a stranger talking in a foreign language.

'And to you, Prince Thor – Prince Loki,' said Swea.

Thor kept his eyes firmly on the princess. Politics were a matter of eye contact as much as combat skills. 'My brother understands that you are a scholar in the field of wildlife. He wonders, if you might be in possession of the "Four Seasons of the Bilgesnipe".'

'What?' mumbled Loki somewhere behind Thor's shoulder.

Swea conferred with her mistress, then said, 'The lady has not heard of that book.'

'Oh, but she should read it,' said Thor, God of Womanizing, with a winning smile and a flourish movement of his hand. 'Especially volume three: "Merry Bilging in Autumn" '

'Thor, for three spirits's sake – _ow_!' Thor stepped firmly on Loki's foot to remind him that an older brother's talking was time-out for little brothers and their protest. Loki squealed and fell silent.

Angrboda's mouth twitched. Again, the two women went into a huddle, whispering. Swea delivered her message, 'My lady regrets not to have brought that particular book with her. But if the princes of Asgard were interested in the Compendium of Asgardian Herbs, she could arrange for them to take a look.'

'Take a look? No. My brother - ' (yes, the one who was inhaling like he was seriously going to try and speak up. Thor dug his heel into what had to be the small bones of the bridge of Loki's foot, eliciting a painful gasp and continuing silence) - ' my brother would like to take a copy of – of the second chapter.'

Thor could hear Loki's angry breathing. It was no use. His little brother would probably burst a vessel or magically explode the roof, if Thor continued to ignore him.

Bracing himself for what was to come, Thor turned around.

Loki jumped at him instantly.

'What are you talking about?' he hissed. 'You don't have any idea what the second chapter of the Compendium is about!'

'I don't even know the book,' said Thor with great nonchalance. 'But I know the rules of this kind of battle. I think I am winning this one.'

Loki knew what his brother meant: Books of Old Lore were expensive affairs. Refusing permission to read or copy a particular volume of your library, was considered very bad style. If word of your tight-fistedness were to spread in certain circles, it might easily impair your own access to new texts. Thus, Thor's request was nothing less than a form of blackmailing. _Amazing that he should know that stratagem..._

'Very well,' said Angrboda, for the first time speaking up herself. 'Your brother may send his writer.'

'My brother does his own writing,' Thor said smoothly. 'If you will allow him to – '

'I allow it,' Angrboda said quickly. 'When?'

_Oh, wasn't it delightful, watching the two of them understand and agree with each other so well?_

'_Thor,_' Loki hissed, scandalized.

'Since today's evening will see more merry entertainment in my honor - how about right after breakfast?'

'Thor, I really must insist – '

'I'll have Swea observe the door.' Angrboda winked her eye at Thor. 'And the window.'

'Your wisdom matches your beauty.' Thor nodded in greeting and started to return to the royal table. He took the long way around, passing by the buffet once more.

'Well, that's what I call breaking down open doors,' he remarked when they were out of immediate hearing range.

'_I'm_ going to break down. Screaming,' hissed Loki. 'What do you think you're doing?'

In passing, Thor helped himself to a chicken wing from a platter, 'I fixed a date for you.'

'How can you keep eating?' complained Loki. 'I've got a date with - with a Jotun!'

'Well, that's what you set out to gain when you scaled that ladder tonight, didn't you?'

'That was before I learned that mother forbade Angrboda talk to me.'

Thor turned around, chicken wing in his hand, 'Oh. I didn't know that.'

'Your rashness has got me in a mess, brother, a terrible mess – ' whined Loki.

Thor stopped and slid his free hand behind Loki's neck. His eyes bore into his brother's, demanding Loki's full attention. 'Stop this foolish complaint, Loki. It's not that bad. In fact, it's no worse than some of the things you put me through, having me cover up for you.'

'I never had you - ' Loki began with righteous indignation, but Thor's finger pressed into his skin, silencing him.

'Like, with you drinking and me taking the headache. You did that again last night, didn't you. So you could evade Heimdall's watchful glance.' Thor spoke with a good-natured smile on his lips and in his eyes. He released Loki's neck and sat on his chair. 'If the situation feels like a mess to you, then that's only because this time you're not the one in charge. Hogun was right: Looks like you've met your match at last.'

'My match? Thor, _she's Jotun_!'

'And we found out that you're not going to marry her. So, for as long as it lasts it might be an interesting experience.' Thor punched his brother's shoulder and winked at him conspiratorially. 'And you are after interesting experiences, are you not, brother?'

Anger, white-hot and all-consuming, instantly replaced Loki's anxiety. 'So, because Angrboda is Jotun, she's good enough for an affair, but not for an honorable relationship?' He clutched the back of his chair. 'A past-time for an Aesir to slake his lusts on and satiate his desire for novelty and exotism. Is that how you see her?'

Thor munched on a mouthful of horseradished scrambled egg and made a noncommittal gesture.

'Talk to me, brother,' Loki demanded, fuming. 'Pray, share with me your reason for smiling so.'

Thor swallowed and said, 'I'm smiling because I've never seen you feel so protective about a woman before. Now, sit down. I can't eat looking up.'

Oblivious of his own, remarkable obedience, Loki slid on to his chair. He picked up his spoon and stabbed at the maple syrup-doused fried egg, 'I'm not feeling protective. And she's not a woman. She's - I mean, I – I am – '

'At a loss for words, brother? Well, if that's not unusual?'

'I will not be questioned by you, brother. I'm done eating.' Loki flung his spoon on the plate. Unfortunately, it gave a loud, clanking sound that made everyone look up. Loki returned the expectant gazes with seething anger. 'I'm taking my leave. _My king, my queen, a good morning to you – _' He bowed to the royal couple who were just entering, then he stormed out. Odin and Frigga did not betray how baffled they were. But their gazes swept to their other son who was still seated. And because they did, the rest of the breakfasters looked at Thor as well.

'A little argument among brothers.' Thor gave the assembly a smile and a shrug. 'I understand he was not in agreement with my intent to squish those tomatoes.'

He thought of how his brother owed him for covering up like this.

And he grabbed his spoon in his fist, and he squished them.

* * *

><p>This time, Angrboda answered the door herself.<p>

'I wasn't sure you'd come,' she said as a welcome.

'I had no choice. My brother – ' Loki stopped. 'The one you think should have mercy on me...'

'Jotuns will say mean things,' she said. 'It's hard to control.'

Somehow, she made way for him; somehow, he found he had taken a step or two forward and was standing in the anteroom with her. Swea was one step behind her mistress. Her warriors were out of sight, which was fine with him. Even in their Asgardian disguise he felt uncomfortable in their presence.

'Please. You don't have to explain anything,' Loki said. 'Especially not the messed-up conversation of last night. In fact, I've come to apologize for my misconduct.'

'But I want you to understand these things,' Angrboda said solemnly. 'A Jotun will turn words into talons – and when he can get them in, he'll _twist_. We're monsters, if we're given a chance to inflict hurt.'

'We?' Loki raised his eyebrows.

'My people. Jotuns. It runs in the family.'

'Nice family.'

'You should meet them. Someday.'

The silence they had been trying to avoid fell. It was not as embarrassing as Loki had feared. But it needed to be broken anyway. He had not come to stand here and lose himself in a frost giant's fake green eyes. Not when there were witnesses, a maid and warriors who were unseen yet probably overheard every word that was spoken.

Loki cleared his throat. 'Get your coat,' he said.

'Are we going for a walk?'

'Herbs are best studied where they grow.'

'Grow? You mean we're going to see real flowers?' Suddenly excited, Angrboda slipped into the cape Swea held up for her.

'That is the plan, yes.' Loki produced a pouch and poured some honey-colored dust in his palm.

'Ground amber,' he explained. 'I've put a spell on it. We don't want Heimdall to spy on us, do we?'

Angrboda studied the fine dust with interest, 'How's that spell going to hinder him?'

'It's a catalyst for shape-shifting magic. It will make Heimdall believe in the illusion.' Loki sprinkled her. 'Can you do an image of Sif?'

'Why her?'

'It is not uncommon for her to be in the presence of my brother or me. Seeing her leave the city with me won't arouse suspicion.'

'No problem, then. But I'll do it only if you put on your impressive gala.'

'Why? This was meant to be an informal -'

'Exactly my point. It's uncommon to wear one's gala armor to a rendezvous. People will think we're on our way to another reception and mind their own business.' She smiled. 'Besides, am I wrong to assume that you'll feel more comfortable dealing with this... situation when you're dressed formally?'

Loki knew she had a point. His father had been right, too. Somehow, Angrboda did have a way of knowing his thoughts, although he was sure that no real mind-reading was involved. It was more like, well, like they were perhaps more of a kind than Loki had deemed possible with someone who was not his brother – or not even Asgardian, for that matter.

Reaching out magically, Loki called his green cape and his helmet to himself. As they materialized in a shimmer of gold, Angrboda changed her own form to look like Sif.

'I'm set,' she announced, grabbing the valkyre's spear. 'Reyk, Garek, Tjor, I'm off, seeing some flowers!'

The warriors acknowledged in their own tongue from another room. Loki was surprised. He had spent some thought on the problem of how to disguise _them _as they walked in public. Surely, they would not let their mistress leave with an Asgardian, even if that Asgardian was an Aesir prince? But it looked like they were going to do just that. Swea wished her mistress a pleasant day. She even managed to keep any trace of sarcasm out of her voice. Angrboda slid her hand in the crook of Loki's arm.

'I'll only do that if no one's watching,' she said.

Loki took one step, then another. No one was moving to join them.

The Jotun beside him was warm and alive and vibrant with excitement. He slid his hand gently behind her back.

Still, no one protested, no one followed.

It was going to be just the two of them.

* * *

><p>Fandral went to the stables to tend to both, his steed and his camaraderie with the helpful stable boys. For the moment he was alone, though, so he put down the crock of mead he'd brought as a thank-you gift for his accomplices and entered the stall with his horse. He stood beside the bay stroking its mane and feeding it apples from a large basket in the stable aisle.<p>

Before long, he heard someone else busy themselves with the fruits. He was just about to look out of the stall, when a voice said, 'The frost giants's presence in Asgard is very unfortunate. Their natural resistance to our magic could jeopardize our entire mission.'

'Ah, relax,' said another voice, 'Even though the Lady Angrboda and her entourage will not be influenced by our spells, why would King Laufey's people choose to interfere on Asgard's behalf? _They_ are no friends or allies of Odin's, either. We're doing them a favor.'

'It might seem so, at first. But will Jotunheim really welcome our dark brothers with open arms as they return from exile beyond the spheres?'

Look who's talking treason here! _But careful, warrior! Careful! _Fandral peered round the corner: There were two Fairies stooped over the basket and picking up apples as they talked in hushed voices. They chose with diligence, keeping only the juciest, ripest fruits and putting back all that were dented or less red in color. Fandral wondered: Had the sumptuous breakfast buffet not appeased their appetites?

And hadn't there been another guy, a self-proclaimed leader - ?

Fandral's faithful horse gave him The Whinny. The whinny that meant "look-out behind you, you deaf idiot".

Fandral spun around.

Ah. _There _the missing Fairy was!

Hovering, holding up the crock of mead.

Bringing it down on Fandral's head.

* * *

><p>Loki took Angrboda to the limits of Asgard's great city and beyond that to a small river that flowed through a landscape of green trees and flowers. Angrboda was enrapt. The colors of the blossoming meadows were nothing short of wonders to her. She marveled at a great weeping willow, the hanging branches and the leaves. The white and pinkish daisies made her clap her hands, delighted. She went to the edge of the water and put her hand in.<p>

'It's not frozen,' she said. 'Look. There are fish.'

'Trouts,' said Loki, seeing the colorful fish that hung in the stream with only sparse movements of their tails.

Angrboda grew a blade of ice out of her right hand and stabbed at the water. She pulled out a fish.

'It's so much easier this way,' she stated, killing the trout by freezing it. 'In Jotunheim, you have to dig a hole into the ice, before you can go fishing. That green stuff, is it safe for sitting on?'

'It's grass. I don't know about its various purposes, but sitting on certainly ranks high on the list.' Loki beckoned her to join him. She did, but with the attitude of someone expecting an angry viper to hide nearby. Reluctantly, he put his arm around her. She leaned on his shoulder. Looking down, Loki saw that her hair was blond again, not an image of Sif, but the disguise she had chosen to wear for her stay in this realm.

'The answer is no,' she said, without looking up.

'What's the question?'

'Well, aren't you just dying to see me in my true form, nine foot tall, blue skin, red eyes? I couldn't show you. I gave my word not to do that around here.'

'You also gave your word not to be with me,' he reminded her.

'That's different.'

'In what way?'

'Breaking your word once is just what a monster like me would do,' she said. 'But only a stupid fool would risk the anger of both, the king and the queen.'

Loki let that pass as quite true. He thought that it was probably exactly what was going to happen, the king and the queen both being enraged by their disobedience. Angrboda, however, did not seem worried at all. Leaning against him so close he could feel her breathe, she grew a flat shard of ice from her hand and looked through it at the willow.

'Look,' she said and, snuggling even closer, held out her hand in front of his face. He looked through the ice as he was told. Sunlight and ice made a nice caleidoscope and the shifting, changing shades of green were a pretty sight.

'How do you create all that ice?' Loki asked, interested. 'How do you shape it?'

'I will it to grow.' Angrboda touched her hand to the ground beside her. Ice spread from her hand like ripples on water. The grass was covered with rime in an instant. The frost continued to spread and reached the willow. It raced up the tree, turning each single leaf into a gem of crystalline green, while the river froze into a glacier of blue ice. 'When you're Jotun, the ice is part of your soul. All you do is let it flow out of you. It's sort of like exhaling, and just as natural.'

Loki looked around: Within seconds the whole landscape around them had turned into a picturesque winter idyll. 'Amazing.'

'All frost giants have that power. It's - '

'Running in the family?' he supplied when she did not finish her sentence.

Angrboda looked at him with no mockery at all, 'Loki, have you ever been to Jotunheim? Do you know how it looks like? How my people live?'

'I know that it is a place of eternal winter and great darkness. Snow fields and mountains of ice, for eleven months. Devastating floods in the twelfth month that change the face of the landscape once the frost returns.'

'And a sickly pale sun that cannot warm the ground enough to bring forth something as beautiful as this,' Angrboda leaned forward to take a frozen daisy between her fingers.

'The frost giants live in homes of ice,' Loki went on, 'Sometimes they build them from ice blocks, sometimes they carve straight into the side of a cliff or frozen waterfall. There are whole palaces made of ice.'

'But most of the structures are crumbling and in the process of decay.' Angrboda ripped off the daisy's blossom. 'It is all we can do nowadays; protect ourselves. But it was not always like this. You see, Loki, there was an energy source, a magical stone that gave off infinite light and warmth. In its light, my home, my people, my land thrived...'

'It was lost?'

'Taken away. So that Jotunheim would never again rise to its old glory.' Another daisy perished, frozen and mutilated. 'It's a winner's privilege, I guess, to do that to the defeated.'

'Odin,' whispered Loki. 'Odin took the light away from your home.'

'He did. He still does. There is a vault, deep under Asgard's glorious palace, where the relics of Allfather's victories are kept. The Jotun energy source is kept there, locked in a casket.'

He knew. He remembered. When he was a boy, Odin had taken him and Thor to the vault. He showed his sons the casket and told them the story of the both of them being born to become kings. A fist seemed to clench in Loki's stomach: _A tale so pretty, and so untrue._

'Angrboda,' said Loki, trying to keep his voice level. 'Tell me. Do you intend to steal the casket before you return home?'

She turned in his arm so that she could look at him, 'Well, actually I told you all of this because I hoped you would help me.'

Loki stared at her, stunned by the nonchalance of her suggestion to commit high treason.

'Loki, my people need this energy source.'

'You suggest that I betray my father?'

'I ask you to save my people's lives. You know this palace, the hidden corridors, the places that are too dark even for Heimdall to look into. Lead us to the vault, and show us a safe way out. No Asgardian need get hurt, and hundreds of Jotuns will live.' She moved to lean on his shoulder again. 'But if that is not enough argument to justify the deed, you can always claim that I forced you to do it. Odin will believe it. Your brother will believe it. It's just what they think a Jotun would do.'

'Will you?' asked Loki, wary of her every movement. 'Try to force me to commit treason?'

'I would not force you to do anything,' Angrboda said truthfully. 'I wouldn't know how.'

And she reached out her hand, and although he pulled back quickly, she grabbed hold of a horn and covered his helmet in ice.

The freezing cold hit Loki like a punch to the head. A sharp pain pierced his inner ears as if they had been run through with long needles of ice. As he gasped for breath, the ice seemed to fill the cavities in his facial bones. A frozen fist seemed first to compress his brain, then explode it outward into darkness.

Angrboda watched Loki pass out and thought that she had never before seen someone so ignorant of his own powers. This damned cloaking spell had become so much part of him that he reacted like a stupid Asgardian.

She was nice enough to catch him before he hit the ground - 'Easy. Don't kill yourself bashing in your head.' - and haunched beside him. She went through his pockets and found the pouch with the ground amber. Stowing it away, she got to her feet. She was not concerned for Loki. Even though there were ice crystals clinging to his very eyelashes - her Jotun magic that had made his helmet crumble into frozen dust had not hurt his body, not permanently. He had lost consciousness only because he had picked up a long time ago that that was what a decent, warm-blooded, stupid Asgardian would do. Sooner or later, some other Asgardian would show up and make a fuss over how lucky he was to be still alive. They'd put their precious prince in a hot bath, thaw him up, tuck him in and treat him to hot beverages until he was all toasty again.

'I bet, if and when you should ever set out for Jotunheim, they'll tell you to dress warmly,' she said to him. 'But thanks for showing me how to avoid Heimdall's attention.'

+++End of Chapter 5+++


End file.
